


Insufferable

by wongweed



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, idk what to tag lmfao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 18:02:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21450427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wongweed/pseuds/wongweed
Summary: "Yours!""your who?""insufferable–""...""wait..""haven't I?"
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Nakamoto Yuta
Kudos: 39





	Insufferable

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first solo writing lmao. Smut no less. It was done in the span of 2 hours as a birthday fic to my friend. She's always inspiring and so here we go.
> 
> P. S. excuse the unstable caseforms and mistakes.

"Yuta–" Taeyong gasps, bracing himself on his forearms, fist clenched, and he leans into the granite slab in his bare glory, the coolth of the marble a blessing to his burning skin. He buries his face into his palms but makes sure his voice is not muffled. After all he takes pride for his vocals. 

"Harder– just... ha.. right... there!" 

"God! Yes. Yes... that...." 

"You are such a cock slut–" Taeyong shivers involuntarily as Yuta's condescending whisper rings in his ear and the hot breathe hitting his heated skin with each syllables. 

He's rendered to a convulsing mass of flesh and bones, belting out lewd songs. He's not humiliated the least. And the way his hips pushes back against Yuta's, impatient and eager, and his insides clenching around the heat spitting him open relentlessly. 

"Answer me, whose little whore?" The rooms quiet save for the heavy breathes and the annoying ticking of the clock. Yuta's fingers wrap around the base of his nape, vicious and commanding. 

It's not that Taeyong feels any shame admitting his colorful life as 'yuta's whore' but there are times when he just wants to get fucked good and not utter more than 'harder and harder'. His mind is already a mess, soft, hazy, and blurred. 

Just fuck me for the love of... 

"insufferable–" Taeyong whines, rutting his hips into Yuta's and turns his head sideway. Purple strands cling to his forehead and look a shade darker, his eyes are blown, lips swollen, red, and slick with spit, and his cheeks alarmingly flushed. 

For a split moment Yuta's features softens, the subtle tilt of his lips and the narrow of his eyes. Taeyong knows that look. It's the one when Yuta goes on about how fucking beautiful Taeyong is. 

And Taeyong feels his cock ache. He loves this man so much. Yuta is inherently gentle in a way no one knows but Taeyong himself. 

"god– because I love you so....oh...stop it.. Don't pull out. Fine. Fine. I'm saying it. But get inside first."

He rolls his eyes at Yuta's cheeky smile, scrunches nose in mock disdain. If anything the way blood rushes to his cheeks gives away the thrum of his heart. 

"Yours!"

"your who?" 

"insufferable–" 

"..." 

"wait.." 

"haven't I?" 

Taeyong isn't known to be shy but that's for the world and he's not feeling shy at all. It's the knowledge of being loved so intensely by Yuta that puts him in an unfamiliar position. A territory he doesn't dare venture this soon. He is aware how patient Yuta has been with him from the begining of, dare he say, relationship and yet he is still so patient. 

Yuta waited long enough. 

Taeyong breathes in, his insides churning. Fear? No, it's the acceptance. He tries to turn his face away as if that will help to tone down the stutter but Yuta demands other wise. 

Yuta reaches out and holds Taeyong's chin and forces their eyes to remain locked. Taeyong notices yuta's lips curled upward and his tongue stammers. He wished he didn't know Yuta so well. 

It's that same loving smile reserved for him and him alone when Yuta comforts him in the middle of the night, huddled together in a blanket, Yuta's fingertips playing with his hair. 

Insufferable man indeed. 

His lips move on their own, caught in a trance, and his own voice sound foreign to his ears. "Yours. Yuta's little whore–" and never will anyone else's in this life. Not that Yuta needs to know, right? 

There's a change in the atmosphere but Taeyong discards it as his fucked up horny brain speaking. 

"That wasn't hard, was it? Next time don't make wait." Yuta whispers into the base of Taeyong's nape and sinks his teeth into it. 

Ruthless. 

"FUC––hhhnnn" Taeyong's voice gets muffled with Yuta's other hand; his palm digs into Taeyong's cheek and jawline and the thumb forces it's way inside Taeyong's mouth, the pad of the thumb presses in every little crook and crannies it finds. 

"Just from the back. No touching." It's a harmless warning. As harmless as Yuta's voice is, Taeyong knows better. Play time's over. 

He gasps, followed by a gutteral whine slipping past his mouth. 

There's definitely a shift in the energy and he realizes it wasn't his horniness speaking. 

Yuta always has been a fierce one, full of passion– too much and sometimes it's not cool but that's another matter to ponder over later– and unpredictable but this–– whatever this is m, it's new, dangerous, and inexplicably hot. 

He melts under Yuta's weight, his wet kisses and cruel bruises, his hisses and growls, and Taeyong arches into Yuta's heat for more, more, more, and more. 

And Yuta gives. He delivers wildly, fucking Taeyong hard, fast, and deep just as Taeyong begs for it. 

Taeyong loses track of reality, the only thing connecting him to reality is the heat coiling inside. 

He wants it out. 

"Yu—ta...Yu—ta...." 

"Come for me" 

And Taeyong does. He paints the wall white, trembling and whimpering uncontrollably. Still it doesn't stop him from wiggling his hips weakly to Yuta's though it's unnecessary since Yuta hasn't slowed down a bit. 

Yuta rams past the ringed muscle clenching around him into the velvet heat. 

"Inside. Fill me up." 

It is as if Yuta has been waiting for that single moment and he milks himself out inside Taeyong, riding his orgasm till the last drop. 

"Tired?" Yuta's rasps gently as he bends and presses his cheeks against Taeyong's, his hands on either side of Taeyong's and palms flat to brace his weight. 

"Yes."

"Let's just... Rest a bit. I'll clean up us in a few hmm." 

Taeyong nods and the next moment he feels empty. It's okay. Yuta is here. Always will be to fill him up later. 

Taeyong's clean. As clean as numerous tissues and a wet towel can make one. He pulls on a loose t-shirt and a boxer that requires laundry as soon as possible and Yuta seems to follow his footsteps as well. The two of them are cuddling on the couch, limbs tangled and smelling like sex and sweat which none of them mind. 

"You were cute today, Tae."

"And you, surprise, surprise, a beast."

"Perfect, right?" 

"Sush, you cheese. now sleep." 

"Meet me in my dream, yeah?"

"Spare my ass. thanks!"

"Thaaaaaaaat's mean." 

"... Tche!" 

"Taeyong–"

"...." 

"Taeyong–" 

"...." 

"Tae–"

"God! Yes, I'll dream of you. Now hush!"


End file.
